


Life

by midnightsheart



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Asylum, F/M, Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle - Freeform, Medicine, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Obsession, Obsessive Behaviour, Rape/Non-con Elements, Stockholm Syndrome, University
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2019-08-17 04:19:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16509263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightsheart/pseuds/midnightsheart
Summary: He was a murderer.She was a doctor.He was a her patient.She was his obsession.And he would do everything to make her his. Even risking her sanity.





	1. The Beginning

Killing was his life. Blood his elixir. Seeing the emptiness in the eyes of his victims was something he desired. His slender hands stained by the red liquid, dropping down his shaped fingers. His beautiful face emotionless and cold. Distant and calculating. Empty eyes looking down at a lifeless body, _bloody_. Oh, how he loved this feeling. Power. Full control. Being the master of the situation. The perfect white oxford shirt sullied by his sin. How could he forget about the evil things he had done? He did not. No, he smiled every time he thought about the lives he had taken. About the power he had. Regretting? Never would he regret any sin he had done.

Was it a sin to punish the ones who had dared to challenge him? Who had tried to steal his power? Was it wrong to destroy those who were useless? No. In his opinion he was a generous hero. One who could select the right ones of the wrong ones. One who could decided who would be worthy to live. Truth be told, of course he was insane but on the other hand he was perfect. Friendly, charming, handsome and always happy. How could he possibly kill the wrong people? A mistake he would never make because he was perfection. _The killing perfection._

Slowly he crouched down beside the body and bent over the still warm corpse and smiled wickedly. Enjoying the defeat of the person who dared to insult his family, his name, his brains. „Never guessed you could be such a nice company“, he whispered darkly and rolled up the blood stained sleeves of his shirt. Slowly as to enjoy every second of his task he grabbed into he pocket of his black jeans and took out a pair of black gloves which he put on immediately, his eyes never leaving his newest victim. A disturbed grin appeared on his beautiful face when he grabbed the bloody scalpel laying on the ground beside the dead men.

 

**_**

 

 

„ _And you know what happened then, right?“_

Calmly Tom Riddle sat in the cold room on a very uncomfortable chair being chained to said chair and smiled. He smiled wickedly at the doctor who was currently interviewing him. Trying to get to know him and trying to _heal_ him. He could only laugh at that. At the hilarious attempt of an uneducated person like the _wench_ in-front of him. Her fingers shook lightly when he talked about his last murder, about the details he loved to remember. About the blood which stained his whole body. About the screams of the man. About the power he felt. And how he _missed_ the empty look of his victims.

„No, Mr Riddle. I do not know what happened, please talk further“, the old woman said, clearly stressed because of his story. Her voice was higher than before, it was wavering while she tried to keep her composure. But he saw everything and his smile just widened because he planed to end his little game with this woman right now and then.

„Mhm, but Doctor Weasley… You as my doctor, as someone to help me, should be aware of my methods. How do I kill? What do I do? What do I love to do with all the victims?“, Tom said lightly and smiled charmingly at his new doctor. The elder woman had to take a deep breath and shook her head while she grabbed the edge of the table with both hands. Clearly nervous and overstrained by the situation, by him. But he was very generous today and he guessed that the answer would make her furious enough. And he loved to play with people.

„I cut him open. Bit by bit. Cut his arms. His throat. His abdomen. And the blood… Oh, you should have seen all the blood floating out of _Ronalds_ body!“, Tom purred delighted and closed his eyes, remembering the feeling of the scalpel cutting through the flesh. But he was disturbed in his peaceful moment when a shrill scream echoed in the room. He opened his eyes which were close when he remembered his last victim and smiled when he saw Doctor Weasley recognising that it was her son he was talking about, „What?“, he asked „Oh, did I forget to tell you that your son is not missing? I killed him. He was such an annoying person. Always talking and laughing like an idiot. I guess I did the world a favour by cutting his stupid face. Don‘t you think?“. Cold words leaving his mouth, making him smile even wider.

„You evil vile… _thing_!“, the furious woman screamed and jumped out of her chair. She made an attempt to jump at him and he was expecting her to struggle him when a clear voice called out her name and then the guards stormed the room to grab his doctor.

Smiling he watched as a crying Mrs Weasley was taken out of the room, leaving him alone with the object of his _desire_. His dark eyes studied her form. He started at her long legs, to her slender waist, to her breasts and at the end he looked at her face. Framed by wild curls. Bright brown eyes looking cold in his direction. Plump lips warped distasteful.

„ _I am so happy to see you Hermione“, he whispered darkly._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys.
> 
> So I do not know what got into me but I‘d like to write something more dark and psycho.  
> I hope you like the frist chapter! It is short I know but it is, like the titel of the chapter, just the beginning and I wanted to create something were you wand to read more :) I hope you‘ll leave some comments with your whishes!


	2. Remembering

He clearly remembered the first time he registered her.

Tom was sitting elegantly in the last row in the lecture hall, listening to the professor talking about the human brain. His face was a mask – a polite facade, an interested glint in his dark eyes, a small smile on his lips when someone looked into his direction or asked him a question because _obviously_ he was the smartest in between all those spoiled brats whose parents paid for their privilege to study medicine. If it was not for his great self control he would have snorted. _Privilege_. All those stupid people sitting here with him, listening to the words the professor spoke but none of them could understand the true meaning. The importance.

Oh, he could tell all of them many things about the human brain. Of the human psychology. How to crack a person and to make them hurt themselves. How to manipulate them so they would do everything he wanted them to do. He desired them to do. And in the end he would just push them a little bit to far. An arrogant smile formed on Toms perfect lips while he playfully bit on his pencil and closed his eyes. _Maybe it is time to find a new victim for my little study_ , he thought.

„But isn‘t it opinionated to allege that every human being is the same under the same conditions? Considering their brains I would claim that two person under the same circumstances could also be very different because of their own will“

Tom opened his eyes. He looked down to the row under him, to the left side. There he saw a woman – Curly brown hair, straight nose, caramel brown eyes, long lashes, rose lips. Her eyes were focused on the professor. Her lips still forming the last word of her statement. Her voice was somehow pleasant he registered. But the actual reasons he was watching her now with interest was her opinion. It was interesting that she corrected the biased professor, risking her mark – and it was interesting that he shared her opinion. He took in every detail he could catch. And he was able to catch a lot of them. So he took in her looks, the wisdom in her eyes, the straight shoulders and also her nervousness while she toddled on her notes – drawing small circles on the paper where her written words would not find any space.

He did not know why he did not know her. For Tom it was easy to remember people. He sometimes just decided to forget some because he thought they were not worthy enough to be remembered by him or he just could not use them for his benefits. But this woman he would have remembered when he would have seen her in this lecture before. Maybe a student from abroad? But for this her english was too perfect. She also sat in between some boys who seemed to know her considering the fact that one constantly tried to gain her attention by asking her stupid questions and the other touched her shoulder softly with an encouraging smile on his lips while she seemed to be stressed about her asked question. Just in this moment Tom recognised that he did not listen to the lecture the past three minutes – too lost he was in studying the young woman in front him.

Suddenly frustration was clouding his mind and he averted his eyes from her curly hair and looked at his own structured notes. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath while he asked himself what happened right now.

_Why was he so easily distracted by a normal little girl?_

  
-

  
Tom Riddle was someone that was not ruled by his emotions. Firstly he did not have any emotions and secondly he was to smart to be controlled by something so obvious and useless. He was better than all of them – better than all the people who claimed they would do some things because they simply _felt_ that way. And therefore he was furious when his thoughts were clouded by a certain woman, her voice, her hair and the mystery that surrounded her.

He had seen her once in the lecture. One day ago and now he could not stop himself from the desire to see her one more time – he waited for the next week. One week. It seemed like this stupid week would not pass fast enough and Tom tried to control his thoughts. But in the first time in his life it seemed like he could not handle such a thing. And so in the end he went out of his rooms in the dormitory and headed down the streets into the cold night. It was past midnight and most students were either drunk or fast asleep. But he was different – _he would kill._

Slowly he was walking down the empty streets, hoping that he would find someone. Anyone to make him forget that one woman currently occupying his thoughts. His slender hands were deep down in his pockets. In his right hand was a cloth and in his left hand a knife. _Ready to have my kind of fun in the night_ , Tom grinned wickedly, just showing his true face in the safety of the night.

And then he saw someone. Sitting on a bench, head down, a light snorting sound was leaving the lips of his new toy. As elegant as a cat he walked towards the obviously sleeping person. If it was not for his current state now he would have never chosen such an easy and helpless victim. Normally he loved to play his sick little game – making it hard for the person, taking his wicked pleasure out of the distress of his victim. But currently he could hardly make out a game and he just wanted to feel free. To feel the _power_. And so he used his blessing in the very moment and touched the shoulder of the sleeping woman. A moan escaped her lips and she looked up at Toms face, her eyes glassy, her lips smudged with her lipsticks, her cheap perfume was in the air. But still a charming smile played on Toms face, „Good evening, beautiful. I think it is rather too cold to sleep outside. Should I escort you home or call a taxi? It is not safe here at night, alone. Especially not for someone as pretty as you“.

The clearly drunk woman looked at him and slowly registered his words, making her smile toothily and nodding her head in agreement while slurring, „Mhm, yeah, wo-would be sososoo great“. With her words Tom took her arm and helped the woman to stand while she giggled, „Bring me homy, sweety! Just down the street“, she pointed her finger in one direction and smiling devilish Tom guided them both through the night, satisfied that he would find his long desired relief.

  
-

  
The red liquid was dropping down his hands while his fingers gently caressed the face of the bleeding woman in front of him. Her eyes were wide open, her lips sealed by tape so her annoying screams would not be registered by anyone in the building. She was bound to her kitchen table, displaying the perfect subject for a new method he was thinking about the last few weeks.

She was crying but no word left her lips. The tears united with her blood, a beautiful picture in Toms eyes and a grin formed on his lips when he once again took his knife, cutting through the flesh on her cleavage, making her moan in pain, shaking her body. A sigh left his lips and his beautiful face looked at her, a warning glint appeared in his eyes, „Stop struggling, you little whore“, his words were as cold as his voice. Taunting. „If you weren‘t such a cheap wanton you would not be in this situation. But consider yourself lucky. You are a part of something for the greater good instead being raped and killed just for the pleasure of some poor creature. We are a part of something, my dear“, his manic whisper was reaching her ears, making her sob furiously.

Watching the woman beneath him in her distress made him grin. Right now he was in control. He was the master of the situation. He was the one who was deciding – death or life. Pain or pleasure. Screaming or crying. Oh, how he loved it. Suddenly he laughed once again caught the attention of his victim that was looking at him in horror. How could he enjoy her dilemma? Her pain? He was an animal. But no. An animal killed for living, Tom killed for fun. He killed to be entertained. To feed his wicked pleasure.

„Bpp..le..ss“, the woman started again, her words just a mumble. Was not pleading her only chance? Her chance to ask the _monster_ to have mercy and to leave her? Tom looked at her, still the scalpel in his slender hand, playing with it and thinking about his next movement. Should he cut her throat or should he play a little while longer? Why not both? He still had time until morning and he could just push this woman a little bit further. _Yes_. He wanted more.

Suddenly he dropped his scalpel and took off his gloves, still looking at the woman bound to the table. Smiling charmingly he was going through his hair by his dark locks. He leant down, right beside the ear of his victim. She started to breath louder, her eyes were going wider. Tom was next to her ear, caressing her earlobe lightly while he whispered, „Let‘s see how your brain works while it is not in your head…“.

A horrible scream echoed in the room.

  
-

  
Tom looked around. Scanning the people around him to just catch a glimpse of the woman of his latest desires. He was sitting in his place, looking perfect as usual and planning his fortuitous encounter with the woman. A little smile was playing around his lips while he looked down on his notebook laying on her table. So stupid and subtile – but the perfect opportunity to talk to the woman when she would obviously ask anyone near her whom the notebook belonged to. And he would pose as the perfect student who borrowed the notebook to someone who was not as gifted as himself. Because he was so generous and friendly. Such a good person who would never hurt someone else. A devilish grin appeared around his lips while he felt save to show his true self. He thought about the girl he just killed hours before. How he had taken her life so easily like it were nothing. And in fact, it was nothing to him.

Suddenly he heard her voice. So pure and clear. It was still tucked deep within his memories. Making him shiver in anticipation for seeing her pretty face, her deep brown eyes, her wild curls. And in that moment he would have killed  himself for feeling that way. Distasteful and angry he looked at his hands which right now were gripping the table in front of him hardly. He closed his eyes and tried to think about something else. But how could he think about something else than her when he heard her voice, her clear laugh?

-

„Hermione, come on. He‘ll never mention you again. You know how many classes he gives per week, right?“, her best friend told her while they were walking to the classroom. She just rolled her eyes and smiled lightly when Harry slung his arm around her waist to snuggle her against him so he could comfort her. „Yeah, yeah… I know but I still feel like a… I don‘t know? A little dumb student who is not able to even understand his questions because I‘ll never find an answer for them“, Hermione answered while leaning into Harry, searching for comfort. „So… why would you even think about it any longer?“, Harry asked her, looking down at her, „We‘ll just rock this class and then we‘ll drink a beer!“. Hermione laughed softly. Indeed Harry was her best friend for a good reason. He was the only one who could comfort her in such situations. Who was able to help her sorting her difficult thoughts and her anxieties. She leant into him once more while they were next to the classroom door and looked in his smiling and comforting face, „Thanks, Harry“, she mumbled softly and took a step into the class, releasing her best friend.

Her eyes searched the room, which now was full of talking students, for their friend Ron. She could no point out the red hair of her friend and scrunched her nose lightly – of course she should have known better when he had texted her that he wanted to see her at three o‘clock in the middle of the night. „I know what you are thinking, Mione. Just let him be, he is struggling, you know?“, Hermione heard Harrys voice right behind her. She rolled her eyes and turned around to look into his face, „I know, but you know, it is not easy for me as well. He is just such a child“, she sighed and searched for her chair. She did not want to talk about this subject again. She just wanted to hear the professor talk about the human brain and do teach her something more she could rather think about.

Hermione took her seat and immediately was greeted by a little expensive looking notebook laying on her table which was supposed to be free of any stuff. Whom this notebook belonged to? She touched the soft leather surface of said object, her fingers lightly gliding across the cover. She opened the book and searched for any indications of the owner. Maybe a name was written on the first page? She was not disappointed. There, written in a beautiful handwriting in the right corner, was a name – _Tom Marvolo Riddle_. She did not recognised the name. Hermione looked to her left where Harry was sitting right now, taking out his notebook and a pencil, „Do you know someone named Tom in our lecture?“, she asked. Harry did not look up while he answered her, still busy searching a pencil in his bag, „Nope, why you askin‘?“, was his short reply. „Uhm, I think he has forgotten his notebook on my table“.

„ _Excuse me?_ “

A deep melodious voice echoed behind her, making her shiver lightly. Never had she heard such a beautiful voice. Hermione turned her head around, very slowly. She looked up, the row above hers was sitting a young man, dark locks, a charming smile on his lips, dark eyes consuming her soul. He stood up, leaning over his table, down to her, stretching out his hand, his perfect smile in place.

„ _I think you have gotten my notebook. May I introduce myself? My name is Tom, Tom Riddle_.“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there :-) I‘m sorry you had to wait so long for a new chapter. But the last year was a year full of struggling and finding myself. Now I‘m motivated to write more and I hope you‘ll still stuck to my story.  
> xoxo


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